


From Our Own Correspondent

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Ocelot Collection [11]
Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sloth, sub-editor of the MMI writes:</p><p>It is with great pleasure we are serialising, in weekly instalments, one of the recent cases of Mr Sherlock Holmes.  We were extremely fortunate members from our publication were able to be present on the case and can therefore provide a first-hand account.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1 - The Ocelot

It is not often I write at length within my own paper, preferring to restrict myself to the editorial, but the case I am about to relate is of sufficient interest I have decided to present the account myself, with the assistance of some of my companions.  Unfortunately, Inky, who would have done an excellent job, is currently finalising his first poetry anthology (copies to be available for purchase soon) and therefore was unable to participate.  However Mouselet and the Ferret were both happy to make their own contributions.

Dr Watson had sent for me, so I slipped into 221B through the door which had been purposely left ajar, and positioned myself in my usual hiding place.  The first thing I noticed, for it was impossible to miss him, was a very large dog which was taking up the middle of the room, and which Mr Holmes had to walk round as he considered the case.

A gentleman, a Mr Worthington I subsequently discovered, was speaking.  “I realise, Mr Holmes, you have already dealt with a similar case a few years ago, so I am hoping you can assist me now.  There is, as far as I know, no direct connection with the Baskerville family, although I imagine looking back one could find cases of marriage between the families.  All the old families in the region are related in some way or other.”

“I believe I can be of assistance,” Mr Holmes replied, “but it would be as well if I began my enquiries today, and I understand you don’t intend to return home for a few days.”

“That is true.  Unfortunately, I have business I need to complete in town before I am able to return.”

“Quite, quite!  Nevertheless, I would strongly recommend Watson and I go down this afternoon,” Mr Holmes said, then added, “Watson, pass me the Bradshaw please.”  He checked the train times and added, “There is a train just after half past two which should suit us admirably.”

“If you insist,” Worthington replied.

Mr Holmes smiled.  “And I will arrange for our good friend Inspector Hopkins to accompany you when you do come down.  Now, since we shall have preparations to make before we can depart, I must ask you to leave us.” 

Mr Holmes ushered Worthington out of the rooms and towards the stairs, giving the hound, who went by the name of Hugo, just time to fill me in on the details, before he too departed.

“So,” Inky said, “Worthington is more perpetrator than victim?”

“At least a bit of both,” the doctor answered.  “And it’s up to us to find out how much of each.  I presume none of you object to a trip to the West Country?”

We didn’t, so plans were made accordingly.  I sent a message to the Sloth, telling him I would be away for the next few days and leaving him in charge of the _Marylebone Monthly Illustrated_.  I passed on Hugo’s details and suggested they make contact.

***

 


	2. Part 2 - The Ferret

We reached the railway station without difficulty.  As usual I travelled in Dr Watson’s medical bag, while Mouselet went in his overcoat pocket.  She gets travel sick in the bag, which is therefore best avoided as far as possible.  Mr Holmes carried Inky in his carpet bag and the Ocelot walked at the doctor’s heels, in the manner of a dog.  The travelling public are far too busy with their own concerns to notice anything strange in this, and it was only the occasional small child who passed any comment.

Once in the train carriage, the Ocelot, Mouselet and I occupied one of the luggage racks, whilst the bags themselves went on the other.  Inky remained on the floor, underneath the window.

Mr Holmes and the doctor always prefer to have a compartment to themselves when travelling, so they can discuss the case.  We therefore assisted in this.  When a large woman, in a ridiculous hat, made to enter the compartment the Ocelot casually leant over the luggage rack and let one of his front legs hang down.  She took one look at him and hastily departed.

At the next stop a clergyman opened the compartment door and smiled indulgently when he saw us.  He took a seat, apparently intending to remain.  I hooked my back legs over the edge of the luggage rack and swung back and forth in front of the clergyman’s head.  This was clearly more than he could stand, for he grabbed his bag and ran back out.  Mouselet giggled so much she nearly fell off the luggage rack.

Once we arrived in the small country town we made our way straight to Worthington’s house.  Mr Holmes had said he was sure he and the doctor could find a suitable inn to stay at, but Worthington insisted they make use of his hospitality.  Naturally, this only added to Mr Holmes’ suspicions.

Nevertheless, it made it easier for us to investigate the locality.  Worthington’s house was in an isolated spot, approached by a tree-lined drive.  There were no immediate neighbours; the property was surrounded by a mixture of woods and fields, which separated it from a few small farms and the nearest village.

There were only a few servants in the house, who reluctantly made Mr Holmes and Dr Watson welcome.  Worthington had sent a telegram to warn them of their arrival, but it was clear they had not even bothered with the limited preparations they could have made.  Dinner was going to be a meagre offering.  However, Mr Holmes didn’t seem too upset, telling the servants not to worry, he and the doctor would go to the inn for their dinner.

Whilst they were away, Inky and the Ocelot had a good look around outside the house and along the lanes, whilst Mouselet and I looked indoors.  It appeared Worthington only lived in one part of the house, with two of the servants having rooms above his.  We presumed the other two servants lived out, probably in the village.  Most of the other rooms looked uncared for, such furniture as had been left in the rooms being covered in a layer of dust.  The rooms allocated to Mr Holmes and Dr Watson were off a passageway which ran in the opposite direction from Worthington’s own bedroom and dressing room, but did not seem in bad condition.  It would appear Worthington was in the habit of receiving occasional guests, although he had not given this impression when he had made the invitation to stay that morning.

What was of greater interest was a few of the rooms looked as if they had recently been cleaned.  Not, as might be presumed rooms which would be used by expected guests, but rooms towards the far end of the house.  Despite Mouselet’s and my keen inspection we could not ascertain what had been in the rooms.  It would, however, explain why no obvious preparations had been made by the servants for their visitors; cleaning the rooms would have taken all the available time before our arrival.

Inky and the Ocelot had a similar experience during their investigations.  For the most part there was little evidence of many people passing by.  The lanes showed signs of farm traffic but little more, but there were a few tracks which showed significant usage.  There were not many distinctive footprints, but these were clearly men’s prints, and not those of children who might have followed them on a whim.

Inky and the Ocelot had no trouble keeping to the shadows and so remaining unseen for the most part.  Inky did report two locals who had caught sight of him, one remarking “that’s a blooming big hedgehog”, but they didn’t bother stopping to look further, merely shaking their heads.

When Mr Holmes and Dr Watson returned from their dinner we shared what we had learnt.  Mr Holmes confirmed the reports of the Worthington ghosts were widely accepted at the inn, but neither he nor the doctor had spoken to anyone who had personally seen anything more than a vague arm waving, which could as easily have been a tree branch moving in the wind.


	3. Part 3 - Hugo

The Sloth contacted me and suggested I write my own part of the story, since it occurred while the others were in the West Country.  Worthington had worried so much about the danger he was in at home, and had told everyone how he planned to consult Mr Sherlock Holmes, that the Parson, my actual owner, had insisted Worthington bring me with him on his trip to London.  I was not entirely sure what the Parson thought was going to befall Worthington, but I made no attempt to dissuade him from taking me.  (Had I refused to move he would have been unable to make me.)

Once on the train I soon learnt Worthington was not as frightened as he had made out.  There was still something of concern to him, for he kept looking at a piece of paper and turning it over in his hands until it had become extremely crumpled.  He did not, however, show Mr Holmes this paper.

Following our visit to Baker Street, which the Ocelot has already reported, we made our way to a boarding house.  At first the landlady looked as if she was not going to admit us, or to be accurate, me, but after a little extra money had changed hands she suddenly decided she rather liked large dogs after all.

The following morning Worthington made to leave me behind.  Any lingering doubts he had had the day before had clearly been resolved and he no longer showed any signs of worry.  I watched as he put in one pocket a small pistol and in another an unpleasant looking knife.  It appeared he no longer required my protection.

In fact, it looked to me as if he was about to become the aggressor, rather than the victim.  I am a parson’s dog and I did not think I should be party to such behaviour.  Accordingly, as soon as I heard him begin to descend the stairs, having shut me in the room, I began to howl loudly.  He had not made it to the foot of the stairs before I heard the landlady insisting in no uncertain terms that he take his dog with him.  Worthington returned and very grumpily picked up my lead.

We covered a number of miles that day.  Worthington spoke to several different people, all of whom kept a wary eye on me and made no attempt to threaten him.  Equally, none of them came close enough for him to attack them.  It would appear a large dog can be extremely useful in keeping the peace.

At the end of the day, Worthington called me the sort of name which should not be applied to a parson’s dog, and said we would be heading home first thing the following morning, since he was unable to do what he’d come up to London to do.  I felt sorry for my Parson, who was quite excited at the thought of Worthington contacting the great Mr Holmes, and would be disappointed to learn this was only an excuse.

I remembered Mr Holmes had told Worthington to let Inspector Hopkins know when he was returning home.  Worthington had apparently forgotten this, so I decided to remind him when we approached Scotland Yard.  He showed every intention of walking straight past, but I sat down by the steps and refused to move.  When he threatened to leave me I tilted my head, ready to start baying again, so in the end we both entered the building and Worthington arranged to meet the inspector at Paddington Station the following morning.

As we walked back to the boarding house I could see Worthington was trying to plan a way to elude the inspector, but then he looked down at me and glared.  He had obviously realised he would not be able to do so.


	4. Part 4 - Mouselet

The morning after the events the Ferret reported (and the same day as Hugo’s account) we returned to the empty rooms we had found in our exploration.  Mr Holmes had a good look round and made the sorts of noises he makes when he’s found something of interest.  Inky had been left to keep an eye on the servants, and as soon as he saw them approaching he rattled his quills and we went outside, where Mr Holmes and the doctor began to admire the roses.

One of the servants spoke quite loudly to his companion, which was strange as he had not appeared to be deaf, and said, “Do you think the ghost will walk again tonight?”

The other replied, equally loudly, “I wouldn’t know.  But I’m not going to look, they say nothing good happens to anyone who gets too close to the ghost.”

They then returned to their work.

Once they had gone Dr Watson said, “What do you think, Holmes?  Was that a challenge or a threat?”

“A bit of both I imagine.  But two can play at that game.  I think we should provide a couple of our own ghosts.  And fortunately I believe I have brought sufficient supplies to do just that.”

Mr Holmes and the doctor returned to the house, and Mr Holmes enquired of the servants if any of them could recommend a good local viewpoint, since the morning was a fine one and he wished to make the most of the beautiful early autumn day.  Someone pointed out Gallows Hill (with a noticeable smirk, which I felt was unnecessary), which happened to be in the opposite direction to the regularly used footpaths the Ocelot and Inky had seen the evening before.

Mr Holmes collected his bag, explaining to the servant who expressed surprise at his needing to carry so much on a simple walk, that it contained the supplies he would use in his continued examination of soil samples and local fauna and flora.  Mr Holmes added he hoped to publish a treatise on the subject in the new future, and offered to send a copy if they were interested.  For some reason they weren’t enthusiastic, and the matter was dropped.

We made our way up the hill; the Ferret and I travelling in the doctor’s coat pockets, the Ocelot and Inky trotting along in front.  About three-quarters of the way up we found an outcrop of rocks, which had been warmed by the sun, so we settled there.  Mr Holmes stood on the rocks to have a good look at the land in front of him.  He seemed very satisfied when he worked out where the recently used footpaths ran.

Then we got down to our main purpose in coming somewhere we could remain undisturbed.  Mr Holmes had brought some phosphorus with him, having learnt of its uses when he went to Dartmoor before.  We, of course, would not have a giant hound, but the Ocelot, wearing suitable make up, would make an excellent ghostly large cat.

Most of the time was spent in fashioning the Ferret’s costume, and the greater part of that was taken up with the Ferret’s complaints about having to wear the costume.  I don’t know why, because it was magnificent.  He was one of the Imps of Hell.  He had a helmet made from a silver tea cup without the stand.  (The stand had been broken in one of Mr Holmes’ experiments – Mrs Hudson had forced him to buy a replacement).  His breastplate was made of a couple of pieces of offcut metal which had been well polished (Mr Holmes keeps a number of these items in what I understand ladies call a trinket box, although I rather doubt these generally include gun cartridges and other such treasures).  And he had a small silver fork missing a prong to carry.  (The fork was of similar providence to the egg cup.)

Mr Holmes’ plan worked admirably.  The ocelot hid in a tree close to the footpath which ran round the back of the house.  At about midnight two men pretending to be ghosts appeared.  There was a mist, which rose up from the ground, and I expect from a distance they would have looked quite ghostly.  As they approached the tree the ocelot, wearing the phosphorous, pushed his head through the branches and grinned at the men, with his best Cheshire Cat impression.  (From the book by Lewis Carroll).  Then the Ferret ran through the tree branches, making chattering noises and throwing berries at the men.

It turned out the men, who were very brave when pretending to be ghosts, were not as brave when confronted with something they thought was from the other world.  They dropped the packets they were carrying and ran.  Quickly, Mr Holmes and the doctor picked the packets up and slipped back into the house.

They then hurried upstairs to join Inky and I who had been watching the events from the window of Dr Watson’s room.  It was not long before we saw the two servants come rushing round from the house.  From the state of the grass they could see where the two ghost men had been, but despite searching they were unable to find the packets.  Finally they gave up and came back to the house.

A little while afterwards, the Ocelot and the Ferret joined us.  The Ocelot reported the men had come to the conclusion the other two had run off without making their delivery.  The Ferret then insisted on showing us a repeat of his impression of an Imp from Hell.  It was more effective from a distance.

 All had gone very well, and the best bit was yet to come.  Earlier in the evening a boy had come up from the village to give Mr Holmes a telegram.  It was from the best of inspectors, telling us he would be arriving the next day.

 


	5. Part 5 - The Ocelot

With Worthington’s and Inspector Hopkins’ arrival matters moved on apace.  As soon as he had come through the door Worthington hurried to speak to his servants, leaving the inspector standing with Hugo in the hallway. Mr Holmes and the doctor joined him and suggested they walk down to the village to return Hugo to the parsonage.

They had got no further than the bend in the room before Mr Holmes put his fingers to his lips and indicated he was going back to the house.  Dr Watson and Inspector Hopkins managed a few more steps before Hugo sat down.  Since they were unable to move him, after a few minutes they too crept back to the house – for a large dog Hugo can move surprisingly quietly.

Worthington was clearly angry at the turn of events.  Not only had the previous night’s couriers failed to deliver their goods, but he in turn had been unable to remove the main threat, due to the *** dog.  The Parson really wouldn’t approve of such language being used for his dog.

Whilst they were talking, Mr Holmes carefully half hid the smaller of the two packages he had retrieved the previous night.  At his signal Inky, who was hidden out of sight - both of Worthington and the inspector - made a loud noise.  Worthington rushed outside, to see the Ferret scrabbling at the earth and revealing the package.

Worthington shouted, the Ferret quickly left, and Worthington picked up the package, which he opened and checked the contents.  He then roundly berated his servants for failing to look for the goods properly and ordered them to continue the search for the second package at once.

At that point Inspector Hopkins stepped forward and told Worthington he was under arrest.  Worthington’s hand went to his pocket, presumably to grab hold of his pistol, but Hopkins leapt forward to restrain him. 

The two servants went to his assistance, but were no match for Dr Watson and Mr Holmes.  They had shouted a warning to the two other servants who came running, but they were rapidly dissuaded from doing anything by the presence of Hugo, who bared his teeth at them.  They took one look at him and decided it would be better to run.

In fact, the only one who put up any resistance was Worthington.  He continued to struggle with the inspector, who sustained a cut lip in the process.  But the Ferret sneaked up behind him and bit his calf.  Worthington gave a cry of pain and Inspector Hopkins snapped the handcuffs on.

Dr Watson examined Hopkins lip and said it was a minor injury and he would soon recover, and the inspector smiled and said he had sustained far worse in the course of his duties.  In fact, the only permanent damage was to Dr Watson’s coat pocket, which Mouselet had chewed a hole in, during her anxiety at the fight.

Afterwards, all that was necessary was to deliver Worthington and his associates to the local constabulary and then return Hugo to his owner.  The Parson was delighted to meet Mr Holmes in person and insisted he, together with the doctor and inspector, stay to lunch.

After lunch they all set off for the station.  Clearly it was going to prove a little awkward for us to return altogether, but fortunately Dr Watson recalled an old acquaintance who he thought he could call on and said he would come up on a later train.  Accordingly, Mr Holmes took Inky in his carpet bag and Mouselet elected to travel in Mr Holmes’ coat pocket and therefore sit next to her dear inspector on the train.  She probably drooled all over Mr Holmes pocket handkerchief as well, but that is a different matter.

The Ferret and I accompanied Dr Watson on his visit to his old friend, who turned out to be the point-to-point race organised by the local hunt.  Dr Watson was as successful at betting on horses as he is at betting on ferret races, but fortunately he did not have much loose cash so he did not lose a lot.  We did come across one extremely dishonest bookmaker, who tried to avoid paying Dr Watson his winnings on the final race, but for some reason he changed his mind.  It may be he felt a little intimidated by my smile, or it may be he feared a riot when the Ferret started to chew on some of the other winning tickets.

At any rate, Dr Watson was left with enough change to buy a cup of tea and a bun in the station café when we were waiting for our train.  Once more, we managed to have a compartment to ourselves on our journey.  This may have had something to do with an Imp of Hell wearing an egg cup on his head and waving a fork.  I would not know, I had curled up on the seat and gone to sleep.


End file.
